


Noted

by whisksandplungers



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Minor tabinof spoilers, Romance, Swearing, TATINOF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 14:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5377862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisksandplungers/pseuds/whisksandplungers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan liked to leave romantic notes for Phil. Most of the time, Phil loved them. And sometimes, Phil would be left staring at the note, absolutely clueless. </p><p>Inspired by all the headcanons arising from Dan's illegible handwriting in TABINOF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noted

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much stuff I needed to be doing this evening so naturally I edited and finished this fic I've had sitting around for ages.
> 
> I was inspired by a post shortly after TABINOF release that said: "Imagine if Dan left Phil little notes around the flat trying to be cute and Phil kept them and always smiled, said thank you, and kissed Dan’s head but he can’t read Dan’s handwriting so he has no idea what they say" (http://crises-of-existentiality.tumblr.com/post/131155074926/imagine-if-dan-left-phil-little-notes-around-the)
> 
> PLEASE BE WARNED:  
> This fic contains very minor spoilers! One scene is inspired by something mentioned in TABINOF and there is also a vague reference to TATINOF.  
> I felt the need to tell you because I don't want you hating me but honestly, they're really, really minor spoilers. You probably won't even notice them unless you've already read/seen it, and even if you do they're so unimportant. Take it from someone who cares as much about spoilers as Dan, they're not an issue.
> 
> Of course the normal  
> Disclaimer: I do not wish to cast any aspersions on Dan and Phil as people. This is purely a work of fiction and I do not intend to be making any assumptions about the nature of their relationship.
> 
> OK, off we go, enjoy!

It had started with the post-it notes for the book.

Once they had established the wall of post-it notes as a system for organising book and tour ideas, reminders, suggestions, to-do lists and more, it had established a new form of communication in the Dan and Phil flat. Now that there was a consistent stock of post-its, it just became easier to leave a little note reminding the other to do any sort of thing; to buy some milk, or call the landlord, or Phil it’s your turn to do laundry, or Dan I need your help for a video so please don’t go out tomorrow. Out of ease and spatial relevance, these notes soon started appearing across the flat, not just the office.

For the first few months, the notes remained fairly business-like. Until the rain incident.

_Please pick up some hair dye when you’re next out – P_

Dan had made a mental note of Phil’s request left on the bathroom mirror, so he included it on his shopping list the next day when he had to get some props for a video. He wouldn’t be able to get his props at the local shops, so he booked an uber. It was a clear day outside, and not too cold, so he didn’t bother bringing a coat.

But as any sensible British person should have known, he should have checked the weather forecast.

Half an hour later and he was sitting in the taxi watching the rivulets of water cascading down the windows. He surreptitiously took a photo of the view out of the back window, where the streets were beginning to resemble a Biblical story.

_To Phil:  
‘should i bring a coat? Nah it’s not raining sky looks clear and i’m just in a taxi’_

Dan sent the picture of the road-turned-river.

_I’m going to drown walking to boots_

_Omg_

_You don’t need to go to boots_

_I think my hair will survive_

Dan didn’t bother replying as the taxi pulled to a stop. He thanked the driver, hesitating slightly at the rain, before stepping out into the torrential downpour.

An hour later, Phil heard the shuffling and stomping of Dan arriving home, who called out to him in greeting. Dan retreated to his bedroom, and Phil went back to going through his emails.

After a few hours had passed Phil got up to go the loo. He pushed open the door and noticed the pile of three hair dye boxes on the side. He went to put them inside the cupboard when he noticed a bright pink note stuck on it. It was soaking wet; the paper was barely holding together and the ink was smudged. In messy capitals, Phil read.

_WHAT I DO FOR YOU_

Phil snorted, then bit his lip with guilt. Though to be fair, he _had_ told Dan that he didn’t have to go to Boots. He was grateful though, as his roots were showing (a constant problem with his new shorter style) and he needed to film a video tomorrow. After putting the boxes away and doing what he had originally come into the bathroom to do, he went up to the office to grab a post it note. On it he wrote

_Sorry! :(_ _But hey, swimming’s good for you, right?_

That was the first time their post-its had been more on the playful side. And it soon became addictive.

On the fridge: _I measured it and you are officially closer to the fridge when we’re writing so next time the ribena’s on you – D_

On the hallway carpet: _Haven’t seen you down here for a while. You’ll have to rethink your branding if you’re not careful. – P  
_ (A few hours later another appeared in the same place: _(I’m glad though) - P)_

On the dirty dishes in the kitchen: _Here’s that mini-game you were after – P_

 

Soon, with all the reminiscing necessary for the book, the notes gained a distinctly sentimental edge. In general life, they weren’t particularly soppy; it just wasn’t their style. But the notes were a form of vicarious communication - despite the fact they clearly weren’t, the notes felt anonymous, and as if they held consequences as they were never discussed. So the notes had a tendency to be a little more open, a little sweeter, a little more romantic than their every day correspondence. After all, they both knew they could do with a heartfelt compliment now and again.

After a few weeks, however, the practice started to lose steam. At least for Phil. His sentimental note-leaving came to an end when he found he preferred to start breaking their unsaid rule, and tell Dan himself, lifting his chin with his fingertips so he could watch his eyes light up and his skin glow with a blush. But Dan wasn’t so good with words in person, at least not in an openly romantic way, so his sentimental notes only increased.

On the window: _Can’t see the sun today. Good thing I’ve got you – D_

On Phil’s wardrobe: _The fans are right. Red suits you -  D_

On the bathroom mirror: _I think this is my favourite haircut of yours yet – D_

On Phil’s door: _You did so well on the radio tonight – D_

On Phil’s laptop: _I loved that last bit you wrote. I wanna keep it all to myself. – D_

On Phil’s camera: _Good luck! Be as amazing (sorry) as always – D_

On the office computer: _No – it’s time for a break – D_

On the medicine cabinet: _Come for a cuddle – D_

On their front door: _The kettle’s boiled – D_

On Phil’s headboard: _It’ll be worth it – D_

Most of the time, Phil wouldn’t respond. They both knew that he’d seen it, and they’d let it sit comfortably in their peripheral knowledge. Other times, the note would implicitly demand contact between them, which Phil acceded to gratefully every time. Sometimes, after a tough day, the little scrawled note of encouragement was just what Phil needed. He couldn’t not appreciate them then, so he would find Dan, kiss him gently on the top of the head, breathing in his scent, possibly murmuring a thank you, before taking himself off to bed to get some much needed sleep.

And sometimes, Phil would be left staring at the note, absolutely clueless.

He knew Dan’s handwriting very well, and therefore he could probably read it better than most, but even he struggled occasionally. They never spoke about the notes explicitly; their faux-anonymity and transience gifting the words with a warm glow of romance. Phil didn’t feel he could ask Dan to clarify what he had written; it would snap the delicate thread that had been sewn between them. So when this happened, Phil opted for the kiss-on-the-head thank you, rather than ignoring it, just in case the note had required a response of some kind. He kept them all, looking over the notes when he needed a confidence boost, hoping that one day the hieroglyphs would transform into something vaguely decipherable.  

As the release of the book and the beginning of the tour approached, much to Phil’s surprise, the notes increased in number. They became simpler, frequently just ‘ _I love you’_ or ‘ _you’re amazing’,_ but that did not lessen their value.

They were beyond excited for the tour and all the other events and videos they had planned during it, but with all the necessary work it was ultimately stressful. Dan was being more open about his insecurities with the tour, but he knew perfectly well that it was racking Phil’s brain too. So the notes were important to them. They may only be scraps of neon paper with an unreliable strip of glue, but in their household, they now equated to mini love-letters, perfect in their simplicity.

It was a few days before the release of the book. Tensions had been high, admittedly. They were both stressed, and they had snapped at each other a few times. They had got close to full on arguments, which weren’t common. But despite it all, the over-arching feeling was one of excitement, and pride.

They were sat in the lounge. Phil was talking through their rehearsal that day. They had of course already gone through the rehearsal with the whole team, but this was Phil’s coping mechanism. He needed to be meticulous. Normally, they would separate work and home more definitively, but the nerves were showing. Dan lazily flipped his phone over in his hands, listening, but only half-heartedly since they had been through it all already. He agreed with everything that Phil was saying anyway. As he watched this man light up talking about this crazy world they had created, he was overwhelmed. He was quite sure if there was a camera trained on him right now everybody would be screaming “heart-eyes!”

“… so yeah we need to try and be a bit faster on that bit. I’m sure there’ll be lots of cheering and stuff but we don’t want it to lose pace…”

Dan traced his eyes over Phil’s lips as he spoke, the harsh light of the phone highlighting his strong features. His hair was pushed back messily as he perused the notes, frowning as it absorbed his entire concentration.

“… and make sure you don’t rush that line about Stephanie Meyer. I think they’ll appreciate that and we wouldn’t want it lost…”

Dan became entranced by Phil’s absorption in his task, his dedication to detail, his relentless perfectionism. His voice sounded tired yet was still enthused with an uncontainable enthusiasm and excitement. Dan found himself smiling slightly at nothing in particular.

“… and I was thinking maybe tomorrow we should try some ones that are a little more borderline, just so we can practise dealing with it if...”

Dan couldn’t really ascertain what made him think to do it, but before he knew it, he was reaching into his pocket for a post-it note (he was writing so many these days he had got into the habit of keeping them on him) and quickly scribbled on the note.

Phil stopped talking suddenly and looked up from his phone in surprise when Dan stuck the note to the back of his hand. This was breaking an unsaid rule, giving the note in person, and Phil didn’t quite know what to make of it. But Dan gave a sheepish smile and nodded towards the note. So Phil peeled it off and read it.

Or at least he tried to.

He didn’t know why this one would be so much worse than even the worst he had seen before, but it was completely illegible.

Normally he could spend as long as he wanted trying to decipher the note, but now Dan was right there watching him, he had a distinct time limit. He stared at it, willing the lines to formulate into the letters he knew so well.

It wasn’t happening. Phil internally reeled as he weighed his options. He could ask what it said, but not only would that ruin the moment (Dan’s face was wearing an expression of pensive, idyllic wonderment that Phil couldn’t bear to break), but it would also be admitting to the fact he didn’t always know what the notes said.

So he tried to guess what Dan might have written. Something like ‘ _You did well today’,_ perhaps? But why would Dan break the convention and insist on giving the note in person for something as relatively insignificant as that? Also, though he couldn’t make it out, the last word was much too short to be ‘today’. He tried to think of more variations of the same theme, but they still didn’t meet the form of the sentence that he could vaguely make out. His mind raced, but he was aware of the time ticking by; he had to make a decision. He decided to go for the safest option.

“Thank you,” Phil said with a soft smile, leaning forwards and kissing Dan on the forehead.

Dan looked perplexed.

“…Thank you?” he said.

Phil’s smile faltered. Oh no. Had he said the wrong thing?

“Um, yeah,” giving another small smile, “thank you.” He looked back down at the notes on his phone, hoping they would move on and he could have another chance to crack the code later. After a short pause, Dan spoke up.

“What… what do you mean, “thank you”?”

Phil’s heart skipped a beat. He was getting the distinct impression he’d said the wrong thing. But he had to stick with it now.

“I mean, thank you. It was very sweet.”

Dan looked hurt.

“What do you mean ‘It was sweet’?” he said indignantly.

Phil blinked, confused, biting his lip. Why was Dan getting offended at him calling it sweet? Whatever the note said, surely that was a vaguely appropriate response?

“Wha… what?” Phil stuttered, shaking his head slightly.

“Y – you can’t say – I mean, that doesn’t make any sense?!” Dan said with a confused, hurt frown.

Phil’s mind raced for a solution. He should probably just explain the truth but Dan seemed a little upset so he didn’t want to now admit he had been lying.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Phil said, thinking it the best hope at working out what kind of response Dan was after.

Dan physically recoiled, blinking back at Phil, his face crestfallen. After a few moments he looked down at his hands in his lap.

“Oh…” he breathed out, “right.” He ran his hand through his hair and round to hold the back of his neck. “Um, sorry, er, I…” his eyes cast about the floor but didn’t go back to Phil, “I obviously got the wrong…” he bit his lip, still resolutely looking down. “Shit,” he said after a few moments, “sorry.” Without looking at Phil he got up and left the room.

Phil was left dumbfounded on the sofa. Dan had looked so crestfallen, so hurt, so unbelievably dejected. What on earth had that damn note said? He looked down at it again, hoping that it may have finally become clear but the lines were still just a labyrinth of meaning, impossible trails of black on neon pink.

He got up hurriedly and ran to the corridor.

“Wait Dan,” he called, when he saw Dan half way down it. Dan turned to look at him and Phil saw tears had begun to roll down his face.

“Shit Dan,” Phil breathed out, taken aback by his extreme reaction, “what’s wrong?” hurrying forwards and reaching up to wipe the tears, but Dan flinched away, letting out a bitter, short laugh.

“Fucking hell Phil, what do you think?” he said shakily, running his hands over his face and pushing his fingertips into his closed eyes, “jesus…”

Phil’s mouth fell open and shut several times as he struggled to find the words. Was this really all about what he had said in response to Dan’s note?

“I… well, what did you expect me to say?”

Dan’s eyes snapped up to meet Phil’s, his expression incredulous.

“What did I expec- well I mean, obviously I thought…” Dan couldn't continue, shaking his head, his voice raising in pitch and choked. “Fuck,” he breathed out, turning away from Phil, “I thought we – but obviously not, I got it wrong, I’m sorry,” he said, holding back tears and beginning to walk away.

“Wait Dan,” Phil said, reaching out to grab his hand, “I don’t know what I said wrong to upset you – “

“Seriously?!” Dan choked out, frustrated at himself as another tear tipped over the brim. “I thought it would be kinda obvious. I mean I get that –“

“No Dan listen,” Phil interrupted.

“No Phil I don’t think I want to hear it. Fine, you don’t want to – “

“It’s your handwriting!” Phil cried out. He hadn’t wanted to admit it, but Dan crying was too much.

Dan looked at Phil blankly, taking in a breath to speak but not finding the words.

“I don’t know what I said to upset you,” Dan looked incredulous so Phil hurried on before he could interrupt him again, “because I couldn’t read your handwriting. I don’t know what the note said.”

Dan visibly deflated. He looked at Phil with an awestruck expression, so Phil continued.

“I couldn’t read it but I didn’t want to upset you so I just said something generic; I’m sorry, I had no idea that –“

“You don’t know what the note said?” Dan said, as if the information had only just registered with him. Phil scrunched his eyes shut, not bearing to look at Dan’s tear stained face.

“No, I’m sorry, I should have said something but I didn’t think – “

“Oh my god,” Dan interrupted, his face breaking into a grin. “Oh my actual god,” he repeated. Phil opened his eyes and watched as Dan started laughing, and he covered his face with his hands as what had been impending sobs released themselves as laughter.

Phil stood, completely dumbstruck, staring at his boyfriend’s rapid change of emotion. Dan’s laughter continued to grow, interspersed with more exclamations of “oh my god”, bending forward and clasping his hands over his face. Normally Phil would have found it contagious but the change was so rapid he found himself just staring in confusion. Eventually Dan settled, though a smile still tugged at his mouth and there were threats of laughter. He held out his hand, indicating the note, which Phil gave to him. Phil watched as Dan carefully wrote over the top of his original scrawl, shaking his head and smiling as he did so. Once he was finished, he handed the paper back to Phil, who took it gingerly. Dan’s pensive expression had returned, and he bit his lip as he watched Phil carefully. After a nod of permission from Dan, Phil looked down, wondering what could possibly be written on this scrap of paper that caused all this fuss.

_Will you marry me?_

The definite black lines against the untidy scrawl were now perfectly legible, but still seemed unintelligible to Phil. He blinked as he tried to confirm what he was seeing. But the letters didn’t morph into anything else.

He looked back up at Dan, who was still biting his lip and observing him carefully. Phil looked at Dan for a moment, looked back down at the note to be _absolutely sure_ , then back up at Dan. But before he could set his brain to thinking about the answer to the question in hand, literally and metaphorically, their entire interaction from just a few moments ago replayed in his mind, and he began to laugh.

“Oh my god,” he breathed out, his hands coming up to cover his mouth. Dan started laughing as well.

“I can’t believe…” Phil choked out, as they both began to laugh harder.  “So when I said-?”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dan confirmed. Phil looked down at the note again and couldn’t help the peals of laughter. The whole situation was so absurd; the momentous question on a scrap of curling paper, the fact that of all the notes that Phil couldn’t read, it had to be this one. It was all so ridiculous he was barely even thinking about what the note was actually implying. Phil shook his head in disbelief.

“This could only happen to us,” he said, meeting Dan’s eyes with a grin.

“Only us,” Dan affirmed, grinning back at him.

As their eyes locked the laughter came to a stop as the weight of the true question now settled over them. Phil knew what he was going to say. Of course he did. But after his initial reaction being laughter, (albeit, entirely excusable laughter) he didn’t know how to say it.

“Well, I suppose I have to answer it, now I know what you actually asked me,” he said, pushing for time.

Dan cleared his throat, the grin faltering as he looked down at the ground. “You don’t have to. I mean, if you want to think about it, I know how you feel about the whole ‘marriage is just a piece–“

“Yes.”

“- of paper thi-… wait, what?”

“Yes, Dan, of course it’s a yes.”

Their world seemed to fall still and silent, the air tingling with the words just spoken. Dan stopped breathing, staring into Phil’s eyes as the reality sunk in.

“Oh,” he managed to get out eventually, “good.”

“Yeah,” Phil breathed, the corner of his mouth quirking into a smile, “good.”

They continued to just look at each other in slight awe. After the messiest proposal they could imagine, all the normal conventions of hugging and kissing and crying didn’t quite flow as nicely as it should, especially as the tears had already happened for the wrong reasons.

After a few moments, Phil looked down at the note again. “Better than your handwriting, definitely.”

“I can’t deny that,” Dan said, smiling. When Phil looked up, they couldn’t keep apart any longer and they drew each other into a hug as their laughing started to mix with tears. Dan kissed Phil’s temple.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Phil’s heart clenched. He was too choked up to get any words out, understanding the layers behind Dan’s simple statement, so he pulled back to kiss him on the lips, holding onto his neck. It briefly flitted through his mind that this kiss didn’t feel any more special than any other, like he had come to expect from romantic proposals in films. It just felt like normal Dan. But that was fine by him. He pulled away, gabbing Dan’s hand and pulling them towards his bedroom without breaking eye contact, all thoughts of rehearsal notes forgotten.  

As they walked through the door he put the note that he was still holding on top of a box on his chest of drawers. It would go with the rest of the notes, but that one would definitely be his favourite.

**Author's Note:**

> DEAR READER PLEASE DO NOT EXIT THIS PAGE JUST YET.  
> Thank you for staying. I would like to continue this fic with a sequel scene, as I don't like this ending at all. However, I can't decide what I want to do, so if you would like to see more, please let me know below, if you'd like the next scene to be either:  
> romantic/fluffy cuddling, talking (e.g. initial wedding ideas) and sleeping. pure innocent fluff.  
> romantic smut, lots of gentle loving and sweetness with a touch of hot and schmexy. fluff, but the kind that may be putting you on the path to hell if not sending you straight to the depths.  
> or even if you have any other ideas let me know!
> 
> if you wanna do that more privately feel free to message/ask me on my tumblr: thedepressiveoptimist (cheeky self-promo)
> 
> As always, massive thank you to Bryony the Beta-Bae for helping me with little decisions with the structure and nature of this fic: I wouldn't be writing without you bubba :)
> 
> Thanks for reading guys, and look out for the sequel!!


End file.
